


Final Boss

by Silver33650



Series: Tarnished Ghosts and Polished Shadows [5]
Category: Fortnite (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Betrayal, Character Study, Gen, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26943898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver33650/pseuds/Silver33650
Summary: In which Skye takes on several quests, but doesn't win the game.
Series: Tarnished Ghosts and Polished Shadows [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923190
Kudos: 14





	Final Boss

As far as Skye was concerned, her life began when she entered the loop. 

Oh sure, there had been stuff before that. A family, friends, something resembling a career. But Skye had never felt like she was really... there. Never felt like she belonged. For her, reality was always disappointing, filled with responsibilities she didn't want and rules she didn't like. So when her favorite streamer had gone missing, Skye had taken it as a personal challenge to find her, and her detective work led to a rather awkward confrontation with a stern-looking man in a coffee shop in a major city. She'd cornered him while he was waiting for his beverage, but instead of being annoyed, he'd listened. Then he gave her his card. 

She did a web search for his company, but nothing much came up. Some vague allusions to science and mentions of deep space imaging. There were no career pages, no store, no frequently asked questions link that she was accustomed to seeing on other sites. But the corporate address was the same as what was listed on his card, though the phone number listed was different. She took a deep breath, then called the number. 

"First lesson," said the voice she remembered. "Don't ask questions you don't want an answer to." Then the line went dead. 

She stared at her phone. Took another deep breath, then dialed again. She spoke as soon as she heard the click that indicated he answered. "What does this company actually do?"

"Exactly what it says on the site," he said. "But here's your second lesson: always assume you're being lied to." Then he hung up. 

But she hadn't given up. She'd called again and again, demanding answers, but only received more and more vague instructions. "Don't go in without an escape plan." "Master at least two accents." "Always carry an umbrella." These were the things she remembered most, in the end, because when the day arrived that he asked a question instead, these were the answers he wanted. And when she'd given them all correctly, he had smiled and extended his golden hand. "Welcome to the Agency."

She didn't feel like a spy. She felt like an adventurer. But all of Midas' rules applied to adventuring just as much as they did espionage, so she figured it didn't matter. She kept them close to her heart, and left everything else behind. 

Well, except Ollie, but she could never abandon Ollie. 

* * *

"Welcome to your new home," he said when he brought her to the Shark. They'd entered through the jaw, and her wide eyes had grown even wider when she stepped off the boat into the mansion. He'd let her explore rather than give her a tour, and she sprinted through the halls, opening every door to learn every corner of this place that was now hers. When she was done, she found him sitting in the dining room, sipping a glass of wine, with another waiting on the table for her. 

"I trust it suits you?" he asked. 

She sat down across from him and took a sip from her glass. It was very sweet, a dessert wine. "It's perfect."

"Wonderful." He set down his glass and nodded out the window. At the rest of the island waiting to be explored. She didn't really listen to anything he told her then. Her mind was on the adventure waiting out there, and eventually she heard him sigh and tell her she could go. She didn't need to be told twice. She used her grappler to fly out the window, and Ollie danced on her head in delight. 

* * *

They were an odd group, but Skye made friends with everyone. TNTina first, because she was so easy to talk to with how many interests they shared. Then Meowscles, who wasn't, but rarely hissed unless it was warranted. They coaxed Maya out of the armory, and Brutus out of the gym, and tracked down Agent Peely while he was crawling through a vent. He didn't stick around long, though, and they never found him again. 

And then there was the boss himself. Despite always being at the Agency or the hideout, it was nearly impossible to convince him to join in their activities. He was never idle, always fidgeting with something. He stayed on the edge of the group, paging through books or folders or the occasional catalogue, circling some things and crossing out others with his fancy fountain pen and making notes in the margins. He refused to participate in conversation, but they knew he was always listening, even if his expression didn't change. Most of them just accepted this. Tina found it annoying, but Skye saw it as a challenge. He'd taught her everything she knew. Surely she could try to return the favor. But how to start a conversation with a man who could talk his way out of anything? 

The others were interested in helping her, at first. Meowscles spent a large amount of time at Midas' feet, until Midas took to pacing and Meowscles became fearful of being trampled, despite that being utterly impossible. Tina pestered Midas as much as Skye did, but gave up when Brutus left for Shadow. Skye wasn't so worried about that; she had a feeling, based on the boss' lack of reaction, that this was planned. And Brutus had always warned her about messing with Midas. "There are things you don't understand about him," he cautioned, and Skye could tell there was a distance in his gaze even behind the sunglasses. She thought she understood, though; Midas had a certain aura of sorrow about him, like a lamentation brought to life. Something about the way his gaze fell on everything without him really seeing it. As if he were just a shadow that sauntered through the Agency, just a ghost lost in gilded thoughts. 

And yet, he was always present enough that she could never surprise him. She told him jokes, but he anticipated the punchline every time, cutting it off with acerbic snark. She played pranks on him, but he sidestepped every attempted surprise. She made funny faces at the dinner table, but he wouldn't look, and, well, neither would anyone else. 

So she'd step up her game. She sent Ollie to spy on him, but he could never find Midas. Ollie reported on every other agent in the hideout, and even a stranger that he didn't recognize, but he could never seem to find the boss. 

Skye pondered this at the Shark, spinning a glass of wine in her hand. _Everyone has a weakness,_ Midas had taught her, and surely that applied to himself as well. But she was running out of ways to figure out what it was. Not unless she started breaking the rules. 

Skye had been an obedient kid, if somewhat devious, from what she remembered. Which wasn't much, anymore, but there were still enough threads to piece together a narrative. A thick forest behind her house... or maybe that was just Weeping Woods and its proximity to Ghost House. A factory where her dad had worked... or maybe that was just Slurpy Swamp. Well, no, there was also that fancy hotel where her mother had worked... no, that was just Lazy Lake. 

But that did give her an idea of which rule to break first. 

* * *

"Tell me about your childhood," Skye asked the next time she saw Midas. 

He was sitting in the hideout, watching the battle bus fly over the hologram map of the island. He sat here often, tweaking the settings, making notes of where the figures landed. He didn't react to her question; he was too experienced to be caught off guard by anything she did. But his voice did sound a bit off when he told her, "I don't remember."

Too blunt, she thought. _A blunt answer indicates deflection when delivered too promptly._ "Then I'll go first," she said. "I loved eating fish sticks by the lake with my parents when we went on vacation."

"You're thinking of Craggy Cliffs." He glanced up at her. "You were warned this could happen."

Damn. He was right, of course. But the key to getting him to talk was to say something that he couldn't easily tie back to the island. The problem is that it was so damn hard to think about anything that wasn't the island. She should've thought this through more. "When I was little," she tried, "I wanted to be a wrestler."

"That's Dynamo you're thinking of."

Shoot. "When I was in high school, I was a lifeguard. I had this red outfit-"

"Sun Strider."

She kept trying; she couldn't give up. She pitched another several ideas, and he shot down every one. "Fable." "Fishstick." "Farmer Steel." "Flapjackie." Finally, he sighed. "Skye, if you're going to insist upon being obstinate, then I might send you to Shadow myself."

"No," she said, desperate. At this point, they'd lost Tina as well as Brutus. Meowscles had stayed, luckily (although he hadn't checked in for a while), but she hated the way the group had split. The hideout was lonelier for it, and it made her personal mission all the more difficult. 

"Then I suggest you make better use of your time." He handed her a folder from beneath his clipboard. 

She started flipping through the tasks; nothing too bad. One challenge stood out to her, however... "Hey," she said, looking up, "do you remember-"

But he was gone. 

_Rain. Do you remember rain?_ Because the storm in this place was nothing like the rain she remembered in this fleeting instant. The soothing patter on top of a bus stop shelter while shaking out her umbrella, wondering how long she'd have to wait today. The bus was always late when it rained, because traffic was always worse, and the bus lane didn't run the entire stretch of the route. It ended right at the intersection where that liquor store was, the one all the college kids went to...

But all too quickly, as she looked at _b_ _lock damage with a Kingsman_ again, the memory morphed into more familiar things found on the island, and she left without recalling anything out of the ordinary had happened. 

* * *

Skye completed the tasks, but she was distracted by her other mission. To solve the mystery of Midas. 

Ollie could sense it, squeezing her ears when her preoccupied mind was about to lead her into danger. But he didn't have much to offer otherwise. She sighed. 

They were at Frenzy Farm, having just finished the last task she had left- bounce on crash pads. She heard the last one deflate as she stared across the fields from the top of the farmhouse. It was peaceful here. A nice change from the oppressive atmosphere of the hideout these days. Even the Shark didn't feel quite as relaxing as it should, given that it was a luxury entertainment complex. Ollie tittered, and Skye found herself sighing again. 

She couldn't leave Ghost. It was unthinkable. 

* * *

Midas wore a rare smile when she returned. "Please join me in the conference room in fifteen minutes," he said, then waved her away. She looked over her shoulder as she left his office, but he was watching for her to leave. She went upstairs to wait. 

He entered carrying a stack of folders, as usual. "I have a new job for you," he told her, then gave her a blueprint. It was of the Shark, but not as it was now. 

"This is a prison," she said. 

"How astute of you to notice. We've gained many enemies, as I'm sure you've also noticed." He paused, and for the first time, she saw him look... worried. "Please sit." 

She did so, and he finally told her. About the hatches, the strange device in his office, and the plan. "We need someplace secure to keep our enemies from interfering. And I trust no one more than you."

The lie came so easily from his lips that she almost believed it. She wanted to believe it, but she knew better. "Your trust isn't misplaced," she said, but she was lying too. She still wanted to know more than she should. And this prison? Already she found herself missing the wine cellar; it wasn't on the blueprint. "A prison, though," she couldn't help but say. 

"You'll still have your room here, of course."

She nodded. It wasn't the same. 

"Good. We'll begin the work at once."

* * *

Construction finished more quickly than she'd anticipated, but things worked like that on the island sometimes. Skye thought the henchmen would help her feel more at ease, with all of them now wearing the Ghost uniform, but it didn't help at all. She startled easily as she paced the halls, nearly stumbling down the stairs and walking in circles. She had a mild panic attack when she couldn't find the vault, but after a few minutes of frenzied running, she found it again, realizing she'd passed it a dozen times unaware. 

She was taking inventory there when the alarm was raised on the radio. A hole found in the wall on the third level. She raced up the stairs, running down the wrong hallway at first before she double-backed. There were two squads of henchmen standing around the cell. The empty cell, she noted with dread. She stomped back to her office without even addressing the henchmen. 

"He's gone," she told Midas as soon as he answered. 

A sigh on the other side of the line. "Not your fault. We knew the risk and still chose to keep the solitary confinement room open for the more alluring target."

"He'll head straight for you."

"Not a problem."

"But the device-"

"Skye." His voice had a tinge of humor. "Trust me. I'm the final boss."

* * *

Skye looked out across the ocean, past Spawn Island, to the mountains. There it was: the shimmering wall of the storm. And there it stayed. Too, too long. She didn't need to look south, where the countdown was visible, even from here. She knew how long was left. The numbers ticked down in her ear at regular intervals. _One day, one hour, thirty minutes._

Ollie swayed on her head. He liked seeing the storm so far out. He thought it was a good sign. "I think so too," she said. "Despite what everyone says."

That night, she dreamed about a party. Of champagne, and of all the agents on the same side again, celebrating without fear. Everyone clinking glasses and singing and dancing, even the boss. Victory.

* * *

But that wasn't what happened. 

Now it was too, too close, and too, too wet. The henchmen hated it; some of them had already left. She called Midas to report, but he didn't answer. Nobody answered her on any channel, as if the radio was down completely. She took it out of her ear to inspect it, but it was still blinking. Silent, but blinking. She threw it across the room. Then picked it right back up, just in case. 

She sent Ollie to the Agency in the end, because she had to know. The wait seemed endless, but finally she spotted a green dot darting across the water. What he was telling her was impossible, however. 

"No," she said. "You're lying." But Ollie had never lied to her. Again he gave the report: _Agency gone. Black masked men. Black suited golden man._

Had Midas been lying this entire time? Had he hung all those emblems and flags and posters while deep undercover? Had he sipped from his mug a liar? Strolled the halls of the Agency with deceit? _Second lesson,_ she remembered. _Always assume you're being lied to._

No. She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't. There had to be some other explanation. 

If Midas was gone, however, then that made her the final boss of Ghost. Didn't it? But... wasn't the role of a final boss to be... evil? She thought back to her old mansion. The dark wood paneling. The private dining room, the pool. Like a villain's hideout, a lair to lure the hero. Had she been duped the whole time? 

_No. No. No._

She couldn't just sit here and do nothing. But where to go? Ghost House? If Shadow had truly won, then it was likely to be dangerous, or worse, empty. No... better to take the fight to them directly, and demand answers, demand to see him, and then she'd know how much of a fool she was for sure. 

It didn't take long to get to Pleasant Park using her grappler. But when she reached the soccer field, it was flat and closed, no sign of any secret base below. She kicked at the grass but found only dirt below. How could they be gone already? 

So she decided to check the other bases too. She went to the radio tower spoiling for a fight. But there were no henchmen to be found there either; only the usual DJ, scared out of his wits when she opened the door with her assault rifle out. She left in a hurry, flinging an apology behind her even as he was flinging grenades at her- why did everything require violence on this island?- and sliding down the cliff to safety. In front of her was Mowdown, with its racers lined up and ready. 

Skye, weary, looked for a spot in the stands to sit, hoping there was a spot away from other people. There was, as a white case was sitting at the top of one bleacher, with a blue folder and its familiar logo on it. She sat down and opened it, hoping for intel, instructions, anything. 

But there was only a handwritten note, in familiar golden ink, on plain white paper. _The plan is a failure. Don't go looking for me. Take care of yourself._

Skye tore her fingers over the folder, hoping to find a hidden pocket, invisible ink, anything. Then she shook the case, but it was so light to the touch that she knew it was empty as soon as she lifted it. 

She refused to believe it was over. Not after how hard they'd fought. Even if she'd made mistakes... there was still hope that they could win, right? This was just their darkest hour. Sunrise and a second wind would follow soon enough. 

So she went to Retail Row. 

It was a long way, but she found a boat and was able to make good time. She grappled to the edge of town. But there was no Ghost Flowers waiting for her, only a strange new Shadow sign above the two storefronts. 

What would they do if they saw her, still in her Ghost uniform? How many were there, if they were working this quickly? The flood wall was closer than ever. It was probably flooding the lower parts of the island even now. 

So she went to the place she should've gone from the start. 

* * *

In her mind, it was still Ghost House. But there were no Ghost signs left on the building. 

She went inside. The new Shadow symbol was hung behind the desk; around the corner was the old Ghost one, leaning against the wall. All of their cabinets and desks were turned over, their files scattered across the floor. The place had been thoroughly ransacked. Her gaze lingered on a framed photo of a Ghost mug, fallen from its place on the wall. She reached to grab it, but she heard voices and knew she couldn't risk being found. She escaped through a vent and ran. 

So it was over. Really and truly over.

She found a boat along the edge of what used to be Weeping Woods and drove it north. But what was there to return to? The Shark was underwater. Ghost was gone. And her boss was missing in action and possibly a traitor. What was left? She set the boat to idle on the shores on Sweaty Sands and looked out across the water, where trash was collecting into islands on the waves. 

Perhaps there was something she could do. 

* * *

The Yacht was mostly in ruins, but there were some things that were useful. She dug through debris until she found stuff that still worked. A satellite dish. A blanket she could use for a hammock. A miraculously untouched server, and a whole radio console. She loaded it all onto some boards laid across tires, then hammered more planks on to serve as walls until she had a boat. A miserable looking boat, but serviceable. 

She made one last pass through the Yacht before she left, not wanting to miss anything. There, under some boxes. Two white posters, "Join Ghost" printed along the bottom. She stared at his face for a long while, then rolled them up and took them too. 

They would have to do. 

* * *

She went back to the sea north of Sweaty Sands, because it was open and near the Shark and it felt more like home than anywhere else on the island. The sharks bothered her sometimes, but always left after a few rounds tore through their fins. She slept in the hammock on the boat's roof, fished for breakfast in the mornings, and broadcast her message every hour during the day. 

"Can you hear me? This is Agent Skye of Ghost, looking for our boss... Please come to the beach at Sweaty Sands and fire a flare gun. I'll find you."

As the water fell, so did her hopes. She was forced to move the boat a bit as the sunken islands reemerged. But she wouldn't stop broadcasting her message. 

"Can you hear me? This is Agent Skye of Ghost, looking for our boss. Please come to Sweaty Sands and fire a flare gun. I'll find you."

But the only visitor she had was a lone Ghost henchman, and he had a message of his own: come to the Fortilla. She let him drive her there in the motorboat, and her eyes widened when the place came into view. A woman came out to greet them, pulling off her painted helmet, and introduced herself and her cause. 

Skye was momentarily cheered. Then Ocean showed her around the Fortilla, and her heart sank. This was no place to stage a rebellion. None of her friends were here; when she asked, Ocean just shrugged and said they'd gone elsewhere, doing other things. All Ocean had was just a few squads of henchmen, trying their best to scare the sharks away. So when Ocean asked her to join them, Skye told her no. 

"But... why?" Ocean asked, completely bewildered. 

"Because," Skye said. "You're looking for Ghost. I'm just looking for the boss."

* * *

Still, that didn't mean that she wasn't opposed to helping out in her own way: putting out more Ghost information on her channel back at her boat. With Ocean covering the southern half of the island, and Skye covering the north, they could reach everyone without fail. Hopefully. And Skye ended every update with the same message.

"This is Agent Skye of Ghost, looking for our boss. Please come to Sweaty Sands and fire a flare gun. I'll find you."

But the person who eventually appeared there was not who she expected. 

"I can't," she shouted across the water. She could feel the eyes of the poster behind her, watching her. Seeing this other woman standing on the shore, waving her arms, wearing her normal red outfit. But Skye wasn't about to give up. 

"Can you hear me? This is Agent Skye of Ghost, looking for our boss. Please come to the beach at Sweaty Sands and fire a flare gun. I'll find you."

She would broadcast the message a thousand times until he showed up. Until she got the chance to demand answers, to look him in the eye and call him a coward, to punch his jaw and maybe knock out a tooth or two. She practiced with Ollie, although it was hardly a fair match. 

One night, the sound of a motorboat startled her awake, and she spun around trying to spot it. There, to the east, was a flash of gold on the horizon. She rubbed her eyes and it was gone, so she went back to sleep. But in the morning, she felt like she remembered him there, telling her something. But not enough to give her any hope. 

"Can you hear me? This is Agent Skye of Ghost..."

"Skye," came the voice across the water. But she wouldn't go outside. 

Until one day, when she did.

* * *

It wasn't giving up, she told herself. It was just taking a break. It was summer; she needed a vacation. 

Skye took out all her rage while driving, taking corners too quickly and rolling the car at the slightest graze of terrain rather than pavement. There was a certain freedom in it, in having complete control of whether they continued on or crashed. Perhaps it was the speed, the motion of the car flying across the island, that made it feel that way. Or maybe it was just because she wasn't stuck in that claustrophobic boat anymore. 

And always, she kept an eye out for a golden motorboat. But none ever appeared. 

They caught up with old friends. They ate snacks in the car and sang along to lyrics they couldn't understand. And fairly often, they had to find a new vehicle after one of them destroyed the car. (Usually Skye was at fault.) Slowly but surely, Skye began to forget about Ghost. She could be an adventurer without being a spy as long as she had friends like these. 

And then they got the call at the gas station, and they all looked at each other. It was as if none of them wanted to be the first one to say whether they should go or not. So she would do it. Meowscles nodded, and so did Tina, with a shrug. They would all go. 

None of them were sure what they would find there. But as long as he was there, there was the possibility of getting answers, and that was what Skye wanted most. 

**Author's Note:**

> you are morally obligated to leave a comment if you thought this was going to be about Meowscles /s  
> don't worry, he'll have his chance later.


End file.
